A Second Chance
by SOWritings
Summary: This FanFic takes place at the beginning of season 3 episode 1. But has a different fate for Gisborne. A fate that will take him in a completely different direction.
1. Chapter 1

Through his mind her words repeated over and over.

_"I love Robin Hood." _

Oh how those words seared at what little feeling remained in his heart. He was yet again faced with another sleepless night. It was only in his room where he found refuge. There he was high enough to cancel out the sounds of the village. Closing his eyes he took in a stifled breath through his weakened spirit. He was sick with regret, and pained beyond words. Forcing his eyes shut he attempted to sleep.

Suddenly the air burst above his head, whipping through the hot stagnant air, and penetrated loud into his headboard. Looking up he spotted a white feathered arrow imbedded inches from his forehead.

"Gisborne!" Came forth from and center grounds of the village.

Dread flooded throughout Gisborne's body, and for a second he questioned whether he should get up. But her words repeated in the back of his mind, building up his rage.

"He has come." He muttered to himself as he pulled himself up.

He staggered down the steps, using his sword to catch his balance. Servants of the house dodged him and slipped out to the back door. Once through he took in a big breath and yelled as he barreled toward Robin with sword held high. They fought like fierce creatures that were at the brink of death. Breathing heavily through snarled teeth. What short words of threat that came out were muffled by their exhaustion, and sounded like vicious growls. Gisborne, with every punch and kick he received, could feel his body give way more and more. But he could not let Robin win. No, he had to make Robin pay. Fortunately two guards came, and distracted Robin. Pulling himself up Gisborne caught sight of a small girl in the crowd. In a split second he ran forward and snatched up the girl, and high tailed it to the forest.

Running with the small squirming and kicking girl over his shoulder, Gisborne could hear the cries of the villagers close at his heels. With every step the trail became more rough. Nearly twice he tripped, and fell forward. As he came close to the edge of the cliff he slowed his pace.

"Gisborne, put her down!"

"Never!"

"Gisborne you-."

"What? I what ahh-"

Gisborne fell forward and dropped the girl to the ground mere feet away from the drop. A sharp burning pain was concentrated just below his ribs. Pulling himself up he looked down and found the sharp blood covered tip of a arrow sticking out. The second he grabbed it the burning built up all over his body and pin prick chills build up on the back of his neck. His vision blurred and he could taste blood in the back of his throat.

The towns villagers voices faded out. Through his few moments of clear vision he could tell they were rejoicing in his defeat. All were rejoicing but Robin. He had the same expression of pure rage on his face. Gisborne watched Robin as he pulled another arrow out of his quiver, and aimed another arrow at him. Gisborne closed his eyes and waited for his certain death. Taking in one last breath he felt the hard impact of the arrow hit him in the stomach and cause him to topple over to his side.

"Just kill me already Hood!" Gisborne wailed as he writhed in pain on the ground.

The villagers were silenced by this and looked on with confusion.

"No, not just yet. You don't deserve such an easy death. You deserve to suffer."

"Robin. No! Don't!" Cried Much.

"No! Don't you dare stop me!" Threatened Robin as he approached Gisborne and kicked him in the chest snapping one of the arrows.

"Robin that's enough!" Much cried again through the worried crowd.

Robin ignored this and grabbed Gisborne by the back of his hair and pulled him up, forcing him to his feet. "No you deserve the worst." Robin then gave him one swift kick to the center of the chest, launching him off the cliff and down to the raging rapids below.

Gisborne did not utter a sound beyond his loud exhale from the impact of his chest. His eyes were wide open as he lost sight of the piercing gaze of Robin, and confused faces of his men and villagers. Eventually all was a blur to him. The cool air and weightless feelings gave him a moment of bliss. Closing his eyes he pictured in his mind Marian. But all he could see was her pained face of when he plunged his sword in her. Tears streamed out from the corners of his eyes and trailed up into the air above him. Hearing the crashing rapids become louder he wince with trepidation with his impending impact. And then it happened, first with the immense pain all over his body where his joints and bones cracked with the impact, then the rush of stinging needles all over his body from the ice cold water. The pain was so intense he could not think, breath, or even move. The rapids enveloped him, and pulled him under. Any attempts to move were fruitless, the shock from the two arrow wounds would not allow him to move. So he gave up and let the current have its way, praying it would take his life quickly. In that moment of defeat he could not cry, or even feel remorse. He was empty, for once he was without any feeling.


	2. Chapter 2

Along a small brook a hooded traveler was gathering up some herbs and water. Filling up the last jug, an odd sight spooked the horses.

"Easy boys, calm down. What is it?" The traveler said calming the horses.

Looking down the brook, where it met with the river, a body caught on some debris, was bobbing up and down.

"Oh shit." Muttered the traveler.

The traveler tied off the reins to a tree and cautiously approached the body. Not knowing what to expect the traveler kept looking round, wondering if this was some sort of trap. Coming up close the traveler could see that it was a man, and that he was still in one piece.

"Well that's a relief. Now is he alive?"

Reaching forward the traveler searched for a pulse. Finding a faint pulse the traveler quickly stood up and assessed the situation.

"What to do, what to do? Eh... No! I can't." Turning away the traveler began to walk away, but then stopped. "Dammit. Eh!" The traveler whipped off the hooded cloak and laid it flat on the ground.

"Oh you better not make me regret this."


	3. Chapter 3

Gisborne slipped in and out of consciousness. He remembered images of the sky through the moving forest canopy, and an unfamiliar voice threatening him that he better not die. He remembered brief moments of unimaginable pain, followed by flashes of his past.

It was the smell of fish cooking over the fire finally stirred him from his violent coma. He took in a big breath of air and began to cough violently from the smoky air, and his extremely dry throat.

"Whoa easy now. Just breath. Here-" A stranger with a thick eastern European accent approached him, and supported him by the back of the neck. "Here, don't move too much. I don't want you to reopen your wounds. Just drink this."

The cold rim of a metal cup was brought up to his lips, and warm water poured in. He eagerly drank it, taking in too much at once, and caused him to cough and wheeze.

"Hey, what did I say. You will just end up undoing all that I have done."

"Where-. What happened?"

The stranger lowered him down and walked past the fire and took a seat. "I don't know. I found you near death along a brook with two arrows in you, and a few broken bones. Do you even remember who you are?"

"Heh. That I wish I could have forgotten."

The stranger picked up a bottle of wine and uncorked it, and giggled a little. "Yeah if only it were as easy as almost dying in order to forget." Then took a big swig from the bottle.

Gisborne looked across the fire toward this stranger. This persons looks were odd to him. They were dressed like a man, had short hair, but their features were off. Squinting he could now understand. This was a woman. "Who are you?"

"Heh. How about you tell me first sir."

"Guy of Gisborne."

"Oh that sounds fancy. Any possible reward for your safe return back where you're from?"

"No only certain death I'm afraid."

"Oh, damn. Well it was a long shot anyway. Oh, yeah. I am Ania. No fancy title to go with though. But it has served me fine thus far."

"What is a woman like you traveling alone for?"

"What was a man like you lying almost dead in the river?"

Gisborne shook his head and laid back. "Well I'm sorry to be ungrateful, but you should have left me to die there. I cannot offer you any reward or notoriety."

"Heh, I don't need any notoriety." Replacing the cork she put the bottle off to the side. "But, seeing as I am a woman traveling alone. you could possibly offer me some security. I can potentially use you as a shield to any bandits that we may encounter."

He raised his brow at this shook his head. Seeing this she smirked and stood. "Relax. I'm only half serious." She pulled out a thin wooden plank and picked up the stick holding the fish roasting over the fire. "Now, are you hungry?"

He gave her a quick nod and motioned with his arms to lift himself up. Stabbing pains traveled up his spine and throughout his body. He gritted his teeth and growled in agony.

"Oh. Dear. Hold it." She quickly put the fish aside and ran to his aid. "Yeah I should have probably gone over your injuries with you. The two arrow wounds, I'm sure you know. But, the bruised spine, broken ribs, broken wrist, and arm may be new to you."

He closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. "You should have let me die."

"Hey don't be like that. Besides there is still a chance you could die. Your wounds are not healed yet."

The fact that he took a little comfort in the possibility of death troubled him, but with every breath the pain built up more and more, making him feel less concern for this sentiment.

"So you want to try and eat now?"

He nodded and opened his eyes, looking up at his nurse. She had delicate features, and striking amber yellow brown eyes, that contrasted her auburn short hair. Yet there was this hard weathered look that she had about her. She had obviously been living like this for some time.

She picked away at the fish, hand feeding him between taking her own bites herself. Though a barbaric act it was, eating with ones hands, she made it somewhat genteel. Her overall exterior and manner of speech with him while they ate was harsh, but there was this underlying formality that occasionally peeked through. This distracted Gisborne, but did not cause issue seeing as all she spoke of was fishing and the many options one had for tackle out in the wild. He was never interested in fishing, but did on the occasion with his father hunt. That was one of the few cherished memories he had from his past. The rest he was willing to throw away and never think of again.

Taking the last bite Ania wiped her fingers clean on a rag and offered him a glass of hot tea. He took in a big gulp of the strong herbal concoction, and grimaced once he mustered up the courage to swallow.

"Yeah I know it tastes awful, but it will do good things for you. It's an old family recipe."

He breathed out a long breath through his pursed lips, trying to recover from the strong flavors.

"Don't worry I come from a very well respected line of apothecaries." She put the cup aside and got onto her knees in front of him. "Okay, let me check your dressings real quick." She pulled down the heavy blanket covering his chest, revealing thick blood soaked bandages. "Awe blast. Alright, seems we need another layer." She gently peeled the dressings away and replaced them with fresh ones.

At first glance Gisborne became somewhat faint. His chest was black and blue from bruising and broken ribs. Looking down at his arms he could see the same thing.

Seeing his color fade she smirked at this. "Still want to die?"

"Yes." He quickly responded.

"Well, if you don't stop bleeding then you may just have your wish granted." She covered up his wounds with fresh dressings and recovered him with the heavy blanket. "But till then... How about you try to heal up. It would be such a waste of my efforts for you to die now."

"You didn't have to save me."

"I know. But I have my own atonements. Besides, you looked like you needed to be saved." She pulled herself up and walked off through the cave entrance past the horses, carrying his old dressings.

She was gone for some time. All the while he looked up at the shadows on the cave ceiling. They bounced about with the chill breeze coming in from the cave entrance. As exhausted as he was, he could still not bring himself to sleep. His mind was flooded with thoughts and images that echoed his pain. The thought of killing himself crossed his mind several times. But, he didn't have the strength to move. Closing his eyes, scant tears streamed out of the corners, and down the side of his face. Taking in a shaky breath he cleared his throat.

"Oh. Wow. That was a poor decision." Ania mused to herself as she walked into the cave. She was carrying her jacket and boots in her hands. Her hair was wet, and her shirt was soaked. Looking over to Gisborne she noticed his confused expression. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I can't sleep."

"Oh. Well I got something for that. Here... Let me-"

She walked over to her cart. She began to go through a large trunk and pulled out a new shirt. With her back to him she pulled her shirt off and, and slipped a new one on. Before he turned away he caught a flash of the high contrast of whip scars on her pale peach skin. Though it was only a brief flash he could see that the scars ran up the length of her back.

"Alright let's try this out." She sprinkled a small amount of powder into the cup and poured warm water on top. "Here."

The mixture was easier on the throat, and had a pleasant taste. She lowered the cup and finished up the rest.

"Now that should solve that sleeping trouble of yours." She walked off toward her cart and tidied up her gear and pulled out another blanket.

She tossed a few more logs on the fire and lowered herself down next to him. "So seeing as you are currently using my one and only sleeping pad, and its cold, I will be laying with you tonight."

Through the thick wave of drowsiness building on his brow he raised his brows at this.

"What you didn't complain the last two nights about this Guy of... Is it necessary for me to do the full title? Can it just be Guy?"

He still had the look of confusion on his brow, now mostly for his loss of two days. Feeling her push him slightly to the left he shook his head and took in a big breath.

"Hey it could be worse, I could be a man." She mused as she nestled in close to him, with her back to him."


	4. Chapter 4

Hours pass and Guy still could not sleep. He had chills running up his spine, and his vision was blurred. Ania was tossing and turning most of the night. He could not muster up the strength to turn and see if she was awake. In fact the thought of moving made him ill. Feeling her turn round, now facing him, he could hear her whimper in her sleep. He knew that sound, it was something he heard a great deal coming from the dungeons of the castle. There was such a desperate nature to her tone. Mustering up the strength he lifted himself slightly, and turned to look her way. A wave of nausea hit him hard and made him shutter. Catching his bearings he took in a big breath, and opened his eyes. Looking over his right shoulder he could see her face. A mixture of pain could be seen in her creased brow. Her eyes through her closed lids were racing about, matching her hurried breaths. He could see her mouth moving, but could not read the words. Sounds now came from her moving lips, her foreign tongue was soft yet had a urgency of it. Before he could try to lean in to hear her more clearly her eyes opened and she gasped lifting herself up.

"Oh przepraszam... Eh... Sorry. Did I wake you?"

He was in a daze, he mouthed the word 'no,' but no sound came out.

Rubbing her eyes she came in close to him and checked his temperature. Just with her wrist centimeters from his forehead, she could feel the heat radiating from him. With her vision adjusted to the dim light she could see sweat pouring down his face. "Gówno." She muttered under her breath as she pushed away her blankets and dashed over to her supplies in her cart. Bringing over a jug of water with a bowl full of other supplies she plopped down next to him and began to measure out various herbs. Picking up the hot kettle of water she poured a cup out and mixed in the herbs. Setting the cup aside she leaned over to him and attempted to prop up his head. Once her cold hands made contact with him he seized and turned to his side, and began to vomit.

"Uh... Not good. Okay." She got out some rags and cleaned him up, then held the cup up to his mouth feeding him the medicine. "So I think if you survive this, my atonement will finally be paid up."

He did not respond to this, the tea was rough and gritty, and was far more powerful than the last thing she gave him. He fought the urge to vomit again. His body shook all over and his breaths were shallow.

Lowering his head she laid him flat, and put a cold cloth on his forehead. "Now just breathe easy, and hopefully the medicine will kick in soon."

His heart began to flutter and his body felt it had needle prick sensations starting from the back of his neck down his spine.

"What is-"

"Just be calm." She urged as she rested her hand over the cloth on his forehead."

Guy's eyes shifted about. He was terrified, in all his life he had never felt this. He could not help but think he was dying at this moment. She pulled over her blanket across him and wrapped it over her shoulders. "It will be fine. You are not alone, just try to breathe easy." She then scrunched down on her side, still keeping her hand over his forehead, and reaching under his blankets, and took his left hand. "You're not alone." She repeated squeezing his hand.

A wave of exhaustion travelled throughout his body. His breaths eased and his eyelids grew heavy. This was very sudden, and scared him. Through his blurry eyes he looked over to her. She could read his fear with this look. She squeezed his hand again and looked him in the eyes. "It's okay, you will be fine. Just let go, and let the medicine work."

He no longer could fight the weight of his eyelids, and eventually fell into a deep heavy sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

In his dream he was falling. As he fell he could see everyone in his past looking down at him as he plummeted toward the rapids. They all had the same blank expression on their faces as they watched him fall. Through the midst of his falling, heavy footsteps broke through this dream and roused him awake. Opening his eyes he looked toward the sound. From the dim light of the cave entrance, he could see Ania leading the horses inside, out from the heavy snow. She was bundled up tight in her jacket and cloak. Tying off their reins, she spotted his gaze.

"Oh good you're awake." She walked over to him and checked his forehead. "Good. The fever finally has broken. You must be hungry. It's been three days."

"Three days?!" He croaked.

"It was touch and go there for a while. You got up a few times, but only muttered a few words and names, then blacked out." She got up and ladled out some warm stew from the fire, brought over the kettle. "I was hoping to be able to get closer to a local trade zone. But with the weather, and your condition so bad right now, it's just not going to happen." She propped him up, and began to spoon feed him stew. "So how do you feel now?"

"Eh... Like I died." He grumbled through chewing.

"But you feel alive now right?"

He coughed at this, causing him to bump his broken ribs. "Oww. Yeah, I feel... Alive alright."

"Good. Well the worst part is over. Now you just need to heel all those bones of yours. Then you can start paying me back for all my work. So enjoy this rest while you can Guy."

Taking the big spoon full of food he wondered what she had in mind for him. He had known the life of servitude. It was something he frankly was not looking to repeat. But, for what she had done, wasting good medicine on him, and the fact that there was nowhere else he could go, perhaps this was for the best.


	6. Chapter 6

A month passes and Guy's health increased with every day. His right arm was slow to heal, but the rest were healing up well. His wounds and broken ribs finally allowed him to sit up. But, he had yet to stand for long periods of time or walk about. They had travelled very little. Ania had business down the summit, and on good days where the sun was out, she would load Guy up onto the cart, and travel down into the valley. These trips were short, seeing as the jostling from the cart was almost unbearable past the third hour for Guy.

"Eh... I can't stand the cold." Ania complained as she coaxed the embers of the fresh fire with moss.

Guy sat back, against the cave wall, blankly staring her direction. His body was still pulsating with pain from his broken ribs. He was in so much pain he could no longer feel the cold. In general he didn't speak much. In all honesty, there was nothing to say. Everything from his past caused him pain to recall, and he feared if she knew anything more of him she may abandon him, or worse turn him in.

"Gówno!" She sighed, as the fire died. "Right. Well back out into the cold. I will be back soon."

As he watched her leave he could not help but wonder why she had done all this for him. He was not able to patch much together to figure her out. She kept conversation to her discoveries on the trail, hunting, and trade. She was a herbalist by trade, and a Apothecary only when required. The only thing he was able to surmise from her stories was her consistent state of anonymity. She never mentioned a surname, or birthplace. Though from what little he had heard of her native tongue, he figured she was from eastern Europe. He had only learned French from his mother, and had heard the languages of the Holy Land, but he could not place her accent.

He continued to sit still for the next hour, mulling over the possible reasons for her anonymity. The scars on her back could mean she was an escaped prisoner, but not many prisons kept women. But perhaps she had done something worthy of it? He was so engrossed in these thoughts that he hardly noticed her return.

"Much better." She said in delight as she coaxed the fire to life. "Oh, I discovered something on my search for wood. Something I think you will appreciate a great deal." She continued to slowly build up the strength of the flames, till they reached a steady pace. "Alright come on." She walked over to him and pulled him up. Adjusting her hood she took his arm and lead them out of the cave toward the cart. From below the trail a cart with armored guards was approaching them. Halting their pace, Ania tripped and nearly fell forward. The company stopped just before their cart and a soldier called out.

"Sir, is this the correct path to York?"

Guy stood in silence. He had seen this soldier before. Luckily his face was mostly covered by his hood, but he could not risk looking up and offering a reply.

Ania looked over to Guy, and could see fear in his eyes. Thinking quickly she stepped in front of him and cleared her voice. "My apologies good sir, my husband his mute. But, yes this is the correct road. But you are a long way off. There is just a village two miles up the road though."

"Ah. Well thank you. Much obliged." The solider returned as he motioned to his company to continue on the path.

It was not till they were a ways up the path till she attempted to speak.

"So I think it is time you fill me in who you are, or what you did in order to fear such men?"

He was still motionless, watching the group of soldiers disappear over the top of the hill.

"Honestly, as riveting as my conversations of herbs and hunting are, I feel it's your turn to start sharing. Especially since I will be taking you into the trade caravan points." She walked over to him and forced a wad of towels in his arms. Walking back over to her cart she lead the horses into the cave and walked back out carrying a basket. "Alright, I'll lead the way, and you start talking." She ordered as she took his good arm.

Along the trail Guy recanted his story in full. Not leaving out a single detail. And all the while Ania did not falter her pace. She only listened in silence, nodding from time to time, showing that she was still listening.

Looking through the snow covered brush, steam was rushing up and through the canopy.

"Ah, we finally made it." She finally spoke, as she quickened their pace.

Standing on the edge of the hot spring his eyes watered from the sudden shift in temperature. He had finished his story, and was waiting for her reaction.

"First thing first, you need to change your look. You got a good beard started, but perhaps you should get your hair cut?"

He gave her a confused look. After all he said, this was the first thing she brought up.

"What, you attached to your long locks?" She questioned as she walked over to him with the basket.

She began to rifle through the contents and pull out soap, and various bottles of herbal oils.

He stood there annoyed, was she listening to his story before?

Looking up, once she found her scissors, she noticed his annoyed expression. "What?" She questioned as she approached him.

He shrugged at her, and pulled the cord for his cloak.

"Here sit down so I can reach." She pointed to a boulder next to the water.

He hung his cloak over a low tree branch and sat where he was told.

Once he sat, she knelt down and reached for a clump of hair. His gaze was fixed on her, searching for some expression of her opinion of him.

"Eh!" She signed, as released his lock of hair. "You are expecting me to say something right? Well... What what's there to say. You're no saint, and your an ass for killing that man's wife. But I have done worse. So thank you for your story. But, with the few people we will be meeting have no ties to with any of the main villages or towns. So we should be in no danger."

With that she raised her scissors, and began to go to work on his hair. As he watched long chunks of his hair land on the ground around their feet, his mind was stuck on her words. They bypassed her insult, and caused him some discomfort, seeing as she was brandishing a sharp pair of scissors in front of his face. What could she have done to be worse?

"Alright, that's as good as I can do."

He hesitantly reached up and ran the palm of his hand over his head. It was short, shorter than he could remember ever having it.

"Now let's get you in the water." She said as she began to unfasten his vest.

He was used to her helping him in this manner, but with this new bit of knowledge he felt more uncomfortable than usual.

Stripped down to nothing but his braies, he was lowered down into the warm water. Once down to his shoulders he dunked his head in the hot water. The heat from the water soothed his aching body, and finally allowed him to take in a easy breath.

"How's the water?"

He took in a big breath and sighed.

She smiled at this, as she shook out his clothes and hung them on the tree limb. "Be sure to keep an eye on your wounds," she cautioned as she started to strip down.

He closed his eyes once he noticed what she was doing. Though she showed no sign of care whenever she changed in front of him, he still fell back to proper decorum. Hearing her enter the water, he looked over to her. Her back was facing him as she was searching through her basket. His eyes zeroed in on the long scars that came up to her shoulders.

"I suppose those scars have something to do with what you have done?"

She stopped what she was doing, and was still for a moment. "No, actually it was because of these, that I did what I did." She turned round, holding a rag, and some soap. She carefully made her way to him, testing her every step on the boulders below her. "Turn around, I'll get your back first." Keeping the soap above the water with one hand, she began to scrub his back with the rag. "I suppose I should tell you my story. Before you start fabricating up some crazy tale in that mind of yours."

"It would certainly help." He pertly commented.

"Well... Where should I start. Hum, well I suppose I should start from the beginning. In case you didn't already know from my accent, I'm not from England. No, I'm from Poland. I lived happily there with my family. My father was superb Apothecary, he's where I learned everything I know now. I planned to work as his assistant. But, with his death came the ruin of my family. My eldest brother squandered what little we had left, and married me off to a English knight. I was taken to England, a place I barely knew the language, and my husband was of little comfort with this. In fact I believe I would have been better off left to live off the streets back home. Sir Norrell of Hull was an evil man. He would beat me when I gave him so much as a dirty look. He did the same with all his staff and mistresses." She took in a stifled breath at this, as if the pain she felt then, she was feeling now. She was now facing him, and working on his neck. "For the four years we were wed, he wondered why I had not bore him a child. He did not know that I was keeping up with my father's trade. I took herbal remedies, preventing pregnancy. Just before the eve of our fifth wedding anniversary I couldn't stand to live there anymore. I made attempts to escape several times, but even the staff were too scared to defy him. So they left me with no choice."

At this point in her story she had the rag at his neck, and was unconsciously applying a little more pressure than necessary. Guy did not show any discomfort with this, he just kept his eyes trained on her face. There was a level of intensity on her face that he had never seen on a woman before. She spoke truth, that was for sure. But with any other woman he would have expected her to cry at some point with this tale. No, her face was devoid of sorrow, and showed no break in confidence.

"What did you do?" He cautiously questioned, not entirely convinced he wanted to know.

She looked him in the eye, and bit at her inner right cheek.

He gave her a more assured look, that he did indeed want an answer.

"I poisoned them all. My husband first, then all his men and staff."

His gaze did not waver from hers, he only looked into her still eyes, and listened.

"I left there as soon as the last person dropped dead. I began to live my life on the road. I used my middle name, and worked as an Apothecary assistant on the outskirts of Alford. I was saving up to secure passage back to Poland. But that was all lost when Norrell's brother came around. I had to flee, leaving my last chance I had for leaving. Any attempt I have made to leave has been thwarted by a constant watch at the ports for me. I am a wanted woman now. Thus the hair, and the lifestyle. But don't get me wrong Guy. Unlike you, I would do it all again. I'm not proud of it, but I wanted to live."

With this she lifted away the rag, and dunked it down into the water, and made her way back to the bank to get another. Guy did not know where to start. Looking at her he never would have guessed she was capable of such a thing. Nor, would he guess she could have the conviction to say she would do it all again. But, one question stood out from the rest, one that he himself wondered. "Does it get easy to live on beyond this, or will this haunt me forever?"

She looked over her shoulder with this, and for the first time he saw a break in her confidence. At first it looked like pain, then it looked as though she forced herself to cover with light giggle. "No, it will never fade away. You just need to learn to live with it. My work, and helping strangers like yourself is penance. But, what I have done is always at the back of my mind, and in my dreams." She turned back round, and began to wash up.

The rest of the night was silent. Not many words were shared. After supper they laid in their usual arrangement, he on his back, and her nestled close to him on her side. Though they were warm under their heavy blankets, a constant chill ran down his back. Knowing what he knew now strained his mind, and made him feel uneasy. His conscience told him it was not right that two murderers were able to live on.


	7. Chapter 7

Two weeks later they had finally reached a trade point. The weather, after a four long days of constant snow, eased up and allowed them to finish the final trek. The tension was still thick between them, but Ania broke it away with her instruction on how to act, and who to look out for at the trade point.

They had followed a small trail off the main road, and spotted a group of carriages and covered wagons.

"Ah, there they are."

"Are those Gypsies?"

"Guy! Let's not use that term, okay?"

"Well that's what they are."

"I know! But it's not like I can walk into any town and do business very easily now, can I?"

He shrugged his shoulders, and mumbled, "you're more worried about highway robbery?"

"Quiet!" She snapped as they pulled into the circle of carts.

"Ania!" A blonde man called out as he approached their cart.

"Peter, what do you want?"

"Geeze, as nasty as ever. Who's the guy?"

"My husband, the one I have been telling you about for years. He finally got sick of hearing about how much you offend me, and decided to tag along."

While all this was being said, completely in foreign tongue, Guy gave the man the angry stare Ania instructed him to do. 'Just keep quiet and let me do all the talking,' she told him moments before they entered the makeshift community. When he saw her signal to come down from the cart he lowered his hood, and took her arm, and led her toward the other vendor carts.

Carts and covered wagons were packed into a semicircle, the ground had been cleared of snow, and a large died out fire pit was in the center. The ground looked to be heavily treaded upon around the fire pit.

"What were you talking about with that man?" Guy whispered.

"Oh nothing important. Just Peter being a usual letch."

"Ania! Kochanie!" Called out a old woman emerging from her wagon.

"Yakatarina! It's been too long." Ania exclaimed as he hugged the woman and smiled.

"Where have you been? We have been expecting you for weeks."

"Well," She pointed with her thumb to Guy over her shoulder, "I was detained when I found this one."

"Oh. Well, I'd be willing to be detained by him."

"Yakatarina!"

Of course there conversation was completely in a language he could not understand. He did notice that there were at least two different languages intermingling. But from the tone and looks the older woman was giving him, he could tell it had something to do with him, but not sure how. The more she gave him looks, the less he wanted to know what she was saying.

Hours later the little caravan village came to life. The sweet smells of spices filled the air, and the soft sounds of stringed instruments intermingled with the sounds of the winter birds. Guy stuck close to Ania. She would venture from vendor to vendor, pulling out herbs from the basket he held, and perform trades or make purchases. She was good at what she did, and the people seemed to respect her. The one thing he found remarkable about all of this was the feeling of community with this group. Back at Nottingham the vendors feared him, and would not look him in the eye. But here the vendors not only maintained eye contact, but some of them would embrace Ania, and shake his hand, then offer food or drink. By the late afternoon her cart was filled with goods, and she had made quite a profit.

"Ania! You're not leaving are you?" Yakatarina called.

"We have to be on the road, we have no place to stay tonight."

"Nonsense! We will find something for you two here. Now," She took Ania by the arm, and grabbed Guy's hand, "Let's go try some of Baskov's Vodka. I hear its strong. So it's perfect for the cold weather. Right?"

Guy gave Ania a worried look, though Yakatarina was speaking a little English, her accent was too thick to understand her fully. Ania only shook her head, and gave him a look of reassurance. Small metal cups were shoved in their hands and a man, who was raising his brow far too much at Ania poured them full and ordered them to drink. Ania quickly took the glass up to her lips and downed it. Guy followed her, but did not take it down as easy as she did. It was dry, and burned all the way down. He wheezed a little, as the man laughed at him and slapped him on the back. Ania came up from behind him and placed her hand on Guy's shoulder to help him relax.

"Baskov, take it easy on him, he's French, and not used to it."

"Ah. He's French. Hold on..." Baskov yelled across the crowd of people eating and drinking around the fire.

Another man came over with a small boy.

"Ah Ania, and-?"

"Guy, his name is Guy." Ania answered for him.

"Guy. Eh.. This boy eh." Baskov struggled with the English, then cleared his voice. "Ania translate for me please."

Ania listened to the man speak for some time, constantly pointing at the boy. Once he was done the man handed over the boy to Ania, and walked away. Guy was worried about this, and wanted to know what just happened.

"So, from what Baskov said, they found this boy in the last port town they visited. He was abandoned and they took him in."

"Okay?" Guy looked down at the boy, still wondering what they expected from him.

"The boy only speaks French, and they have not been able to speak with him for the entire two months they have had him."

"Oh..."

"Relax, they are not handing him over to us. They just want you to talk to him, and figure out his story." She then came up close to his side and whispered in his ear. "Apparently from what they were able to figure out his family was killed, and there was no one to claim him. Just try and keep the conversation to the basics: name, age, etc. I doubt he will want to talk about what happened. Just let him know he is safe and will be taken care of."

Guy stood there for a moment and looked down at the boy. The boy's brown eyes showed fear, and uneasiness with his surroundings. Closing his eyes briefly, Guy looked to the back of his mind for the words. It had been years since he spoke French. He only learned it as a child, and would use it with his mother. He then took in a breath and stooped down to the boys level. "Bonjour mon nom est Guy. actualités vous nom?"

The boys face lit up and his eyes went wide. "Vous savez le français!"

"Oui oui. Mais parler lent." Guy urged the excited boy to speak slow.

"I'll leave you to it then." Ania said as she released the boys shoulders, and walked over to get some food.

Guy sat with the boy for the next hour and a half on the outside of the crowd drinking and dancing to the music. The boy was nine, and his name was Antonin. His father was a sailor, and his mother died when he was a baby. His father raised him, and his two older brothers alone. He was born in Marseille, and as soon as he could swab a deck, he was on the ships. Three months ago the ship was attacked at the harbor, and everyone was killed but him. He had hidden himself in the food barrels, and when the barrels were sold off at the market was when he was found by Baskov.

This boy had lead an extraordinary life, and had faced such great sorrows. But all considering, was taking it quite well. His mood seemed to improve the more he was able to talk with Guy. Eventually Guy was able to get across what Baskov could offer him. The boy seemed a little disappointed about his circumstances, but shrugged it off, remarking that he preferred living a life on land, than on the sea. This from Guy's perspective seemed a coping mechanism in two parts, and made him pity the boy.

Ania eventually approached them, pushing her way through the gregarious crowd. "Ah. Guy how goes it?" She said in a light whimsical manner, which was directly resulted from Baskov pushing more drink on her than she wanted.

"Well, Antonin has quite a life story."

"Good, good. But Antonin... It is quite late, you should sleep now." She came in close to the boy, but then remembered he could not understand him. Looking over to Guy she gave him a nervous smile.

"Son temps de sommeil Antonin."

"Oh tell him we will talk with Baskov tomorrow. We will do some basic introductions, and go over some Russian."

Guy gave her a look of question. Since when was this decided? He thought, but didn't feel he had the right to argue about it. Clearing his voice he searched for the words. " Demain, nous allons parler encore une fois. Ania et Baskov va vous apprendre un peu de russe."

Antonin nodded at this and shook Guy's hand. "Merci Guy, Jusqu'à demain matin."

"Yes, till tomorrow then." Guy repeated in English for Ania.

Ania took Antonin's seat once he left and offered Guy a sip of her drink.

"And so begins your deeds of penance Guy." She said as he raised her glass to take a sip.

He raised his brow at this. This felt like nothing much of a deed. All he had done was listened to the boy.

The music picked up and the younger crowd had mostly been forced to go to bed. Now was the time for the adults to have fun. Couples danced polka's around the fire.

"Ania dance with me!" Called Baskov as he waved her direction.

"Oh no Baskov, that is-"

"What? Oh you rather dance with your man?"

"No, umm... He can't dance. He's injured."

"Ah... Well then all the more reason you dance with me."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But just one song."

"Awe, well we shall see about that then." Baskov said with a wink.

Guy sipped at her beer and watched Ania, and the rest of the group dance. The quick lifts, turns, unique footwork, combined with music he had never heard before intrigued him. This culture was completely new to him. Under any other circumstance he would have gone with what he had heard from others, and avoided a group like this. But seeing this now, and meeting them he could start to understand how much society can skew things when it comes to unknown cultures.


	8. Chapter 8

Rooster crows stirred Guy from his deep slumber. Breaking through the crust of his morning eyes, he was greeted with the bright colors of panels and tapestries. Rubbing his eyes he got a more clear view that he was inside one of the wagons, of the village. Feeling pressure on his left side he looked over, and found Ania, still asleep with her arm draped over his chest. He carefully lifted her arm and slipped out of the bed.

Standing up he smacked his forehead on the ceiling, and landed back onto the bed. His sudden impact made his ribs ache, and woke Ania from her deep slumber.

"Huh... What just happened?"

"Sorry. I didn't realize how short the ceiling was."

"Eh... What time... Oh it seems we are the last to wake."

Guy looked round the small space. "There were others in here?"

"Yeah, don't you remember?"

Guy rubbed his eyes, and yawned. "I don't even know what were in right now."

"Baskov's wagon. He insisted we stay with him." She said as she crawled out from under the blankets, and around Guy.

She was only wearing a loose men's tunic. Turning away when she started to dress, Guy noticed he had been stripped down as well.

"It was really hot in here last night. What with," she looked round the space counting the abandoned blankets and hammock, "five or six people in here."

He ignored her as he examined his attire, it reeked of alcohol.

"Alright lightweight." She tossed over his clothes that were mixed up with hers. "Fortunately the rest of the trader's missed you're binder last night. So just put that usual stony stare you have, and get dressed. We got a language lesson to do before we leave."

The day was very productive. They started out by getting Baskov and Antonin acquainted. Once they were able to teach each other some basic words, they were able to write out alphabets, which would tide them over till their next visit. Ania had a few small villages she needed to drop by for business, and with the good weather they couldn't spare another day.

With Yakatarina helping Ania pack away from goods for the next village, Guy caught glimpses of them looking over at him. He was sharing a few last words with Antonin. Though he learned a little from their lesson that morning, he was not sure what was being said between the two women. Some of the words seemed familiar, but not quite. But, he certainly did recognize his name being said quite a bit.

Once the last parcel was packed away, and all had said their farewells. Yakatarina was still embracing Ania, whispering something in her ear. Ania rolled her eyes once she was set free, and heading toward Guy. As Guy was about to hoist himself up into the cart Yakatarina took his hand. For a moment they silently stood there. Her gaze seemed to pierce through him. It was if she was reading him, and judging him. A small smile built up from the corner of her mouth, and she took her other hand and cupped it around his one she had seized, and patted it lightly. She gave Ania a nod, and walked away back toward her wagon. Guy gave Ania a look of question, but she only rolled her eyes and said, "she thinks herself clairvoyant." This did not answer his question, and only made him wonder more.

"Eh, here," She offered her hand to pull him up. "She may do weird stuff, but I trust her judgment. She means the world to me. Without her I never wouldn't have made it. She is like a second mother to me."

As the horses lead their wagon back onto the road, Guy took one last look back at the caravan village. It seemed all so surreal to him. Though he was just miles away from places he had visited before, it seemed like he was just in another world. He had his reservations about going to a place like this. But now, he was looking forward to visiting again.


	9. Chapter 9

They were visiting the third village that week. Ania had this routine to each visit. She would park her cart a mile away from each village, wear her oversized cloak, and carry her basket into town. She kept to herself with the main vendors, and would head straight to her usual clients, which were mostly house calls, or back alley vendors.

Though Guy was at her side during this, he was successful at being practically invisible. He walked just a few steps behind her, and kept his face out of view of people passing by. Though his ribs ached from riding in the cart, he would have much preferred riding on it all day than walking through the seas of people. It was too much like Nottingham. With every brief glance he caught he was put on edge.

By late afternoon she had finally concluded her business, and were heading back to the cart. Guy kept his gaze forward, as if he were calculating every step left before they could leave. Ania, observing his behavior that day, and for the last week, thought it odd.

"You have been more silent than usual. Are you feeling alright?"

Guy, being too focused on their destination, did not hear her, and kept walking.

"Guy!"

Guy stuttered his stride, and looked over his shoulder at her. He was so deep in his thoughts that it was difficult to give her attention.

"Are you alright?" She questioned as she walked up to him, and felt his brow. "Humm, no fever, are you in a lot of pain?"

"No, I'm fine. Just tired."

She raised her brow at this, but shrugged it off. "Alright...? Well, we are almost there anyway. We can just set up camp there if you want?"

"No, let's just get on the road."

Hours later they were miles away from the village, and were thick into the forest. With distance came comfort for Guy. He could breathe easy now, well as easy as his mending ribs allowed.

"Alright, this will have to do." Ania mused, as she guided the horses to a think circle of trees. "No cave, so we will have to set up the tent."

By dusk their tent was up, and the fire was roaring with a pot of stew cooking over it.

"So what is that mind of yours so focused on?" Ania questioned as she ladled out some stew for him. "You seemed in better spirits a few days ago. You miss the Gypsies that much?"

He smirked at this as he took the bowl. "No, just prefer being out here rather than in the villages."

"Ah. So that's what it is. Yeah, I was the same way at first." She took her bowl, and ripped off a hunk of bread and passed the rest of the loaf over to him.

"What do you mean?" He inquired.

Chewing up a big bite of bread, she took a big swig of wine to wash it down. "You... Well. Eh... Right after it happened, I could not bear the gaze of others. Even though they were complete strangers, I felt like they knew what I had done, and that they were judging me."

"Does it ever go away?"

"It took a while for me to shake that feeling. But, from time to time I still feel it. It's just another thing you need to learn to live with."

Guy shook his head and returned his attention to his bowl.

"Hey I told you it wasn't going to be easy. I guess you could be a coward about it, and lay down and give up." She said looking in his direction to see his reaction.

He sat silently and expressionless.

"Hey! Don't you even think about it. You owe me for all my hard work, wasted materials, and herbs."

He gave her quick glance and nodded at her.

"Good, now once you finish your meal you clean this all up. I'll prep the tent. I also will need to check on your ribs tonight."

Rinsing the bowls and pot at the river's edge, Guy sat and stared up at the clear sky. The stars were bright with the new moon. In his mind were flashes of all the villagers faces. As they haunted his mind his breathing became labored. Unable to clear his mind of their gaze, their faces began to change, and became people he knew back at Nottingham. Falling back into the brush he clutched at his chest. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his eyes watered from the stress.

"Guy? Why are you taking so long? Guy?" Called Ania from further down the path.

He was too lost in this state of panic, that he remained still, and did not respond.

"Guy what's-" Noticing his stifled breaths, she cautiously walked round him, and knelt down. Taking his hand from his chest she softly stroked it. "Breathe, just breathe." She softly instructed.

Coming back he forced himself to breathe. Which made him feel queasy.

"Alright, easy. Not too fast. Take your time." She urged, as she came in close and rubbed his back.

Eventually his breathing became easy, and he stopped shaking.

"Back with me now?" She questioned, looking him in the eyes.

He nodded, as he brought his hands up to his sweat soaked brow.

"Alright," She grabbed the pot and bowels. "Let's get to the tent. It's freezing out here."

Thankfully the distance was short to their tent. As soon as he staggered in Ania slipped out to retrieve her supplies.

"Here drink this, it should ease the tension."

Ania handed over the cup, then began to strip off a few layers. She threw her heavy coat off to the side, But used her softer heavy linen and wool layers as extra cushioning for the mattress they were sitting on inside the tent. Seeing him struggle with his drink she scooted over to him and took his cup. "Here, I'll have the rest. Why don't you strip down, I need to check your ribs."

He nodded at this and began unfastening his jacket and all the layers on his upper body.

The skin was a deep red and purple around his wounds, and his ribs had dark bruises spanning all the way around his sides. He sat on his knees, and waited for her to examine him. Feeling her warm touch trace his ribs he closed his eyes.

"It may be slow, but you are healing up."

"Doesn't feel like that's the case."

"Well these have healed up nice." She said lightly touching his fully closed arrow wound. "How's your arm?" She slowly bent it and lightly squeezed it where the break was.

"Seems to be fine now."

"Good, then I will expect more work out of you." She said handing him his tunic.

Behind her he could see the silhouettes of the horses coming in close to the tent and fire. It was cold, outside. Inside the tent the chill air bit a little at the skin. But with their layers, and proximity, it was just barely tolerable.

Ania scrunched down, and under the layers of covers.

Pulling on his tunic and heavy sweater he followed her, and pulled the heavy furs and quilts up to his neck.

"You'll learn to cope. Like I said, this is just one of those things that you need to learn. It takes time, but you'll get there." Ania whispered as she pulled herself close to him, stealing his warmth. "Now try to sleep. I got a busy day tomorrow."

Closing his eyes ghost images of the villagers flashed in and out of his thoughts. Opening his eyes he looked to his side. The dim light from the campfire illuminated the side of Ania's face, and shined along the contours of her face. He envied her ability to sleep. The only good sleep he had during their time together was from sickness, or injury.

The times of silence were the hardest for him. He dreaded the night. All his past sins flooded his mind. He did not have Ania's stories to distract him. However much he may have looked disinterested in them, he appreciated her stories a great deal. Watching her lids become more heavy, and her eyes begin to twitch, he could tell she was fast asleep. A slight breeze slipped through the tied off entrance of the tent, and caused goose bumps to grow up the side of her neck.

"Eh... Cold." She mumbled in her sleep as she flipped to her side and scrunched into his side.

Her cold palm gripped round his side, and her knee straddled over his left hip. He was used to this. This had become their routine. They had no other choice. They could not rent at the inn's, and they would probably freeze to death by trying to sleep separately. It was probably due to its necessity that there was little thought put into it. Lifting her head a little, he eased his arm round her and pulled her in tight to keep himself warm. If he could not sleep, he at least would keep himself comfortable with her warmth.


	10. Chapter 10

Walking behind Ania, Guy couldn't help but feel some trepidation about entering the village. A few yards away from the main entrance Ania stopped and turned round.

"You can wait out here for me. I should be quick."

He nodded at this, as the tension in his brows eased.

"I figured you would appreciate that." She said with a smile.

Guy sat on a stump a few yards from the main entrance to the village. The village had a large fence encircling thatch roof small hovels, and a few tall stone granaries in the center. After a few minutes he pulled out a hunk of bread from his pocket and began to nibble it. It was early morning, and there were very few villagers passing by.

"Excuse me sir." Came a voice from down the path.

Looking over Guy discovered a man on a horse, accompanied by two other men with him approaching him.

"Yes?" Guy hesitated.

"Sorry, to trouble you. But are you a local?"

"No, why?"

"Ah. Well, we have been hired for a bounty. And have had some leads tell us to check this place over. Did you happen to see a woman who looked like this pass by?" The man rolled out a hand drawn portrait of a woman. "She is the wife of the late Sir Norrell of Hull."

Guy had to hold back his shock with this man's words. He covered his reaction by questioning, "what is her crime?"

"She is wanted for murder."

Guy raised his brow at this. They were here for Ania for sure.

Observing his reaction the man inquired, "did you happen to see her sir?"

"No, eh. It's just hard to imagine a woman who looked like that could be capable of such things." Guy covered.

"Eh. Yes. Well from what I have heard from Sir Norrell's brother, she always had a dark side. It's just a shame she was not taken care of before the tragedy."

Guy was unsure what this man meant by 'take care of.' But he did not want to show he had much interest in the manner. "Well I wish you luck on your search."

The man nodded and motioned for the others to follow into the village.

Guy waited for them to pass the gates before he followed in after them. He had to get to Ania as quick as possible. Flipping his cloak inside out he tried to make himself look different, in case he ran into the men again. With a somewhat quick stride he scanned the alleys full of vendors. Still not finding her he unconsciously sped up his stride, and caught himself pushing through the tight crowds in the central part of the village.

Then, from the corner of his eye he spotted one of the men from earlier, questioning a local who was pointing toward a group of huts next to a farm. His heart began to beat fast. He had to get to her first. Finding an opening he rushed through and around the last group of vendors, and ran toward the farm. Looking over to his right he could see the men assembling together, and tying off their horses.

"Ania!" Guy called out once he came close.

Two children, who were tending to the livestock pointed to the main house. Rushing past them he headed for the open door. As he passed through the threshold he could hear her voice.

"Ania!"

"Guy! What on earth-"

"No time. Come on!"

He grabbed her basket, and pulled her out of the building. In the distance, closing in on them were the group of men, and they immediately zeroed in on them.

"You there! Stop!" Their leader called out.

"What is-"

"Just run!" Guy yelled as he lead her to the back side of farm. His grip was so tight on her that when he pulled her off to the side her arm joint popped.

"Wait Guy what-"

"They work for Norrell."

"Shit!"

They jumped the fence and headed for the back entrance leading to the thick forest. The men were quick behind them. Yelling threats, and occasionally stopping to shoot arrows their direction. Together they just narrowly missed these shots. But their arms and legs were not missing the high brush and rocky uneven paths that nearly made them fall several times. Guy lead the way, pulling Ania behind him. A opening came up at the end of the path, giving them relief till they realized it was a dead end. Stopping just short of it, Guy and Ania were facing a sheer cliff with a forty foot drop into a busy river.

"Oh man we are going to have to-" Ania began, looking down into the rapids.

"No, isn't there-"

"This is our only option. Unless you want to get caught?"

Chills ran up and down his spine, and the pit of his stomach turned.

"I know this is terrible, but we could survive this. Just keep your legs together, oaky?" She said untying her cloak, and inching closer to the edge.

"Wait, I don't-"

"Okay, on One, Two-"

"Ania!" Guy yelled out as he was pulled by Ania from the cliff edge and into the water.

As they fell their loose clothing flew up above them and her discarded basket, with all its contents, scattered up in the air shielding the view of the bounty hunters launching a volley of arrows their way.

"Hold on tight!" Ania screamed as she gripped his hand.

Taking in one last breath, he closed his eyes and prepared for the plunge.

The water cut like glass, and was so cold it stabbed at his muscles like needles. Feeling Ania pull him up toward the surface Guy kicked his feet. His cloak cord pulled hard at his neck, and choked him. With one quick movement he pulled at his tie, and the cloak was sucked away by the violent current. Ania was the first to break the surface. She screamed in pain as she gasped for air. "Fuck it's cold!"

Guy was too far gone to react. This was too much like his previous experience, and from the current pain, and past psychological connections, he was fighting the urge to pass out. If it had not been for Ania pulling him close and screaming to stay with her, he would have let go at that moment, and let the current carry him to his death.

The rapids tossed them about like rag dolls, occasionally thrashing them into fallen trees that had been left behind by woodsmen. With the third log, Guy's coat hood caught onto the branches. Together they reached round the log. It had a thick layer of scum and algae, making them slip and fail in their attempts of stability. With one last hard grip, one that split his fingernails in the process, Guy got a hold of the log.

"Clime up me!" He yelled.

Through the crashing waters Ania gripped his shoulder, and pulled her way on top the log. Once she got her footing she went flat, half on the log, half on the river bank, and offered her hand to Guy. "Come on!" She screamed with outstretched hand.

Releasing one hand, which was imbedded deep into the spiny bark, he quickly took her hand. His grip was weak, due to the blood rushing out of the tips of his fingertips from where his tips and nails had been ravaged from his savage grip.

Using her other arm she gripped round his sleeve and pulled with all her strength.

Guy released from the log, and gave one good last kick, flopped over the log, and onto Ania.

"Eh... Oww!" She grunted as she took the brunt of his weight.

Rolling over her, and to the side Guy lay flat on his back on the muddy bank. His body ached all over, and his skin still burned from the shock of the cold water.

"Wow. That was insane." Ania wheezed out, as she attempted to lift herself to sit. Her jacket had cuts all over it from where she banged into the river debris. Blood seeped from some of these areas. But not enough to be serious. "So what exactly happened back there?"

"I was approached by bounty hunters outside the village. They showed me a picture of you and asked if I had seen you come in."

"And you decided to give off my location by coming in and running after me because...?"

Guy turned his head toward her, scanning her expression, thinking she was joking.

"You realize that is all you did by trying to warn me, right?"

"A villager they questioned pointed to the farmhouse you were visiting."

Ania's eyes went wide with this, then clenched her fist, and dropped it to the muddy ground. "Well I guess I won't be doing business there again."

He nodded his head at this, and closed his eyes.

"You think you can walk? We should try to get back to the cart before the sun goes down." She pulled herself up, and staggered over to his side, and offered him a hand.

Guy didn't move. He didn't want to even think about moving.

"Come on. You have been hurt worse than this before."

Forcing his eyes open, he glared at her, and shook his head.

"Hey, don't start with me. I'm the one who should be angry. Now come on." She reached down for his least injured hand, and pulled him up.


	11. Chapter 11

For hours he felt her gaze fixed on him. It was not the typical gaze she gave him, no. This one a had a certain level of urgency. They had maintained a consistent silence as they mended each other up, and kept to their respected sides of the hot spring. Again, he could blame his inexperience and lack of trust on his absence of situational awareness. Was she angry with him? It would make sense for her to be. She preferred things to go her way and at her pace. But, at the same time it made no sense for her to punish him thus. Guy's mind was so fixed on the matter that he had not noticed her come his direction, till she was facing him. Her shoulders were just barely covered by water. Her eyes were locked onto his, and she seemed to mouth words that he could not read. He prepared himself for an argument, seeing as there was little else she could have to say to him. But her sudden smile disarmed him, and caused him to cock his head.

"She really damaged you didn't she?" She questioned.

He did not know to what she was referring, and gave her a look that echoed that thought.

Seeing this, Ania reached forward and took Guy's hand, and placed it on the side of her face. His hand was so big, his palm wrapped round the side of her chin, and his fingers reached the top of her ear. Guy was in a state of wonder with this. He could not have guessed this is what that look had meant. Cupping her hand on the side of his face she scanned his expression, and observing his still confused face, shook her head a little then got up on her tip toes and kissed him on the lips. Her soft lips caressed his chapped cut up lips.

Before he could react, it was over. She lowered herself down, turned, crossed back to her side, and lifted herself out of the hot spring. His eyes were fixed forward. He was more stunned by the sudden change in her attitude, rather than her action. Nothing could break through his scarred and beaten down demeanor. The world was all so surreal to him. Ever since he had returned back to the living he felt like a passenger watching a strangers life unfold. The only thing he was able to feel was regret. Shaking his head he looked her direction. She was nowhere in sight. Pulling himself out he quickly dried off and dressed.

It was late. The full moon was high, and illuminated the early spring growth on the forest grounds. Most of the snow had melted by now. But the brisk bite of winter had yet to ease up. Crossing his arms he buried his hands in his coat. As he walked forward the steam from his breath blurred his vision giving off this frosty appearance to all his surroundings.

At last he reached their campsite. The fire had a few logs freshly added, and the horses were settled close to it. Halting for a moment he stood still in front of the tent. What should I say to her? He thought, as he clutched the cord to the entry with his bandaged hand. In his mind there was this immense void for how to deal with this. The more he searched for some solution he was overwhelmed by it. Feeling the bite of the cold at his neck, and crawl down his spine, he decided to retreat to the tent and hope for the words to come.

Peaking in he immediately caught her gaze. She was waiting for him to finally close the entrance. For all the while he had been standing there he had been letting in the cold. So she had a somewhat perturbed expression on, which from Guy's perspective did not bring him confidence.

"Just come to bed already. It's freezing." She sighed, as she pulled the heavy blanket up to her chin.

Jumping at her order, he quickly pulled off his boots and got under the covers. Once he was settled she closed the gap. Scrunching in close to his side, and laying her head in the nook of his side.

"You don't have to feel anything about what I did. It was unfair of me to say that. So let's just go back to our usual thing now. Just consider the kiss an expression of gratitude for saving me."

He kept his eyes trained on the thick canvas ceiling of the tent when he nodded at this.

"Good. Now try to sleep tonight. You need it." She said rolling over, and burying her face into the side of his chest.

With this however, Guy was far from able to sleep. How could he. What she had said was right, well partially right. Marian had damaged him. But it was due to his own action. He always believed her pure heart would cleanse his. But, now there was nothing pure or clean about him. He had committed such awful atrocities and had been allowed to live on. Through this his mind shifted to Marian's perspective, and despite all he had done she would find him worthy to live on. That was how pure she was. Yes, she would find him guilty for his faults, but never would she condemn a person to death. This caused Guy to shutter, and take in a stifled breath. Ania, roused from Guy's shutter, glanced up to his face. His brow was tense and his eyes remained still as they welled up with tears. Knowing no words could ease his state she knew all that could be done was remind him to stay in the present. So she reached her arm round him and gently hugged him.

No words were shared in this moment. Through the biting cold of the outside, and the depths of dread and regret, a dull warmth built up from this. Two broken individuals lay together in the only accepting embrace they would ever find. Though in theory it made the world feel very large and cruel, justly so it was how reality worked, and they would just have to learn to live with it rather than give up and die.


End file.
